


The Bow of Eryn Lasgalen

by KateKintail



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One snowy evening, Legolas and Gimli receive an unexpected visitor bearing a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bow of Eryn Lasgalen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a swap-bot swap for a written journal story swap.

“Come taste this. I think it is just about ready.” Gimli swirled the spoon through the stew and lifted a spoonful. It looked ready. It smelled ready. But the elf’s palate was a bit more discerning and dinner would not be ready until Legolas said it was. For several long moments, Gimli watched the steam rise from the large pot as fire danced beneath it. Then he called again. “Legolas! I have dinner here!” 

There was still no reply. So Gimli covered the pot and cupped his hand under the spoon as he headed out in search of Legolas. 

He found the elf spread out on the fur rug in front of the fire, surrounded by arrow shafts and splintered pieces of unshaved wood. Gimli was not surprised. “Do you have enough yet?”

Legolas surveyed the stash and cocked his head. “It calms me.” Legolas needing to be calmed was a more recent development and an issue mainly in the wintertime. Their home, while not near the coast by any means, faced west toward the sea and the lands Legolas felt a calling to. In good weather, he could go out walking, clear his mind, center his thoughts on being here. And while he did not feel the cold as strongly and he walked upon the snow instead of through it, the wind and wet had begun to affect him like never before. More than once he’d woken up after a winter walk with a sniffle. And more than once Gimli had cursed in dwarvish under his breath and then forbidden Legolas from any future activity of the sort. So Legolas had learned to devise other means to relax. 

“I can think of better ways to calm my elf.” Gimli bent slightly and dropped a kiss into Legolas’ golden hair. “Dinner. Please try it before it grows cold.” 

Legolas lifted his head and opened his mouth. Gimli grinned, thinking how easy this would be. A few quick slips of buttons, a raising of his tunic and dropping of his trousers and it would be dessert before dinner. But Legolas’ lips curled slightly and Gimli stopped the eventual smile at once by sliding the spoon into the elf’s mouth.

Legolas took a moment to consider the taste, letting it sit on his tongue before he swallowed. “Good.” High praise indeed. “But it could use some more carrots.” 

Gimli grumbled, “Can never leave well enough alone, can you? Why do I even bother ask—”

He broke off, though his words would have been drowned out anyway by the loud knocking sound. 

Gimli and Legolas exchanged looks. They received few visitors to their home throughout the year. It was set back deep in the woods, butted up against the base of a mountain. Legolas could have his trees and greenery stretching for miles in all directions while Gimli had a basement of rock leading straight back into cool, dry caves. He was, however, getting too old to enjoy the caves during this time of the year. His kin would surely say living with an elf had softened him. He would argue the opposite. And he would say that he was lucky to be able to curl up beneath blankets with his love on a cold, snowy winter evening. 

The knock came again, stronger and therefore louder the second time, a set of three quick raps. 

Putting down the wood he’d been shaving but not dropping his knife, Legolas rose gracefully and headed to the door with Gimli at his heels. 

It might have been Aragorn, but the king typically sent word when he planned on passing through. Besides, Aragorn knew better than to be out in weather like this. It might have been any number of visitors.

Who it was, however, was an elf. Though Gimli had never met him, he saw the small, familiar emblem stitched on the strap of his messenger bag and knew at once where he had come from and why he was there. 

“Good evening to you. What word is sent from the Woodland Realm?” Legolas asked, having apparently spotted the same, probably faster if Gimli had to guess. 

“No word. Only a token… from your father.” From off his back he pulled a large parcel wrapped in thick brown cloth that obscured its true shape. 

Legolas accepted the item graciously and stepped aside. “You are welcome to rest here a while if—”

“I am honored by your offer, but there is no need. I will be off.” 

Gimli uttered something like a “harrumph!” of frustration and headed back for the kitchen at once. 

As he left, he could hear Legolas saying “But your horse must be tired and cold after such a long journey in these conditions. At least…” 

Gimli knew the elf would ultimately refuse. Gimli had been a member of the Fellowship, and that afforded him a certain reputation even now. It garnered respect, more than anything. Yet there were those among Legolas’ folk who accepted him not as a dwarf or as one of those who helped save Middle Earth, but as himself. There were elves who seemed to enjoy his company and who seemed to have no issues with the role Gimli had in Legolas’ life. There were some elves, on the other hand, who had not yet come to terms with the prince of the woodland realm sharing his bed and his heart with a dwarf. Legolas’ father was one in this latter camp. 

The messenger was still refusing Legolas’ hospitality when Gimli returned. He had a bucket in one hand, the warm water in it cooling now that it had been removed from its spot next to the fire. There was a wrapped parcel in the other hand. “Bread and several carrots. Easy enough to eat while you ride. And a small container of warm stew.”

He did not miss the look of surprise in either elf’s eyes, though Legolas’ was the warm, adoring, proud sort. 

“And water for your horse. We have oats and hay back in the barn,” Gimli explained.

“No thank you.” 

Gimli straightened. “This was our dinner. You would be dishonoring us by refusing.”

The elf paused, considering, and eventually decided that Gimli was right. He nodded as he took the items. He might have enjoyed playing the noble elf above such mortal concerns like hunger and cold, but his horse seemed thrilled with the water, now a drinkable lukewarm. The horse chomped hungrily through two carrots then drank some more water. 

Both Legolas and Gimli knew that further persuading attempts would not succeed. So they bid him farewell, Gimli with a wave and Legolas with some words Gimli didn’t fully understand. 

Back inside, Legolas wrapped Gimli in his arms, leaning his head close as he whispered, “There is so much about you to love, but most of all your heart. Just when I thought it could not get any bigger…” He squeezed Gimli and let him go. “Come. Let us see what my father sent.”

Legolas settled on the rug and began unwrapping the package. Gimli hung back, knowing it was not for him. But when he heard Legolas’ breath catch and saw Legolas’ shoulders tense, he was at his elf’s side, kneeling with one arm around Legolas’ waist. “A new bow?” He laughed. “Just what you need to go with all these arrows. How did your father know?”

It was not a particularly elven bow, however. The wood curved simply. There were metal nocks, sturdy and durable. It was the sort of bow made for battle, not an ornamental gift given from father to son. No… it was the sort of bow that had already seen battle. There were nicks and dents in the wood, and the string looked weak, loose, frayed at each end. “Legolas, what am I looking at?”

Legolas took some time to answer. He stroked two fingers along one of the bow’s limbs and curled his fingers around the grip. Then he pulled his hand back and took Gimli’s with a squeeze. “I believe this is my father giving us his blessing.” 

Gimli gave a start. “Funny… it looks like a bow to me.”

“This bow is not elvenmade. It belonged to a dwarf and was confiscated many years ago… by me and my guard, on the orders of my father.”

“Bah!” Gimli shook his head. “A dwarf with a bow? Absurd!” But now that he looked at it, he could see tiny scratches in the metal, where it had been worked and designed. It had been done with great care and skill. It was a dwarven bow!

“It belonged to the dwarf Kili. He was part of the company on the quest—“

“Kili? Who went with my father to Erebor?”

“You know we took them prisoner.” 

“They escaped.”

“We took their weapons.” 

“They found others.”

“I assume they did. I know the story, Gimli. But there are things you do not know.”

“Things?”

Legolas explained about the capture, the escape, the chase, and the orc attack. And though Gimli knew this story, he had never heard Legolas say so much about it. The version was slightly different from the one his father told. 

But then Legolas went on. He told of Tauriel, of Kili’s injury, and of moments he’d only glimpsed but had wished at the time he hadn’t. 

Gimli reached out and touched the bow. The metal was still cool from being outside. “Are you certain your father did not send it as a warning? A reminder of what comes from falling in love with a dwarf?”

Legolas breathed out in as close to laughter as he got. He smiled and kissed Gimli’s head. “I am certain. My father enclosed a note.”

_It was time this was in the hands of those who will appreciate it. May the two of you enjoy it._

“Enjoy it?” Gimli chuckled. “Did he expect us to use such a piece of history?” He imagined riding behind Legolas on their horse, both of them firing arrows. It was absurd and ridiculous—as ridiculous as trying to teach Legolas to fight with an axe. 

And, yet, Kili had fought with a bow. Kili, nephew of Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór. “Kili truly fell for an elf? How did that work out for him?”

“Not nearly as well as this,” Legolas said, pulling Gimli closer with another kiss. Gimli had a feeling that there was more to the story, more Legolas was not yet ready to reveal. “Now, I suggest we eat our dinner before we have another unexpected guest and give it all away.” 

He followed Legolas into the kitchen, knowing this was not the time to mention that they were out of carrots for the stew.


End file.
